


Salt and Burn

by NaturalandReal (icyzephyr)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-08
Updated: 2012-01-08
Packaged: 2017-10-29 04:33:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/315870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icyzephyr/pseuds/NaturalandReal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He wishes he could just salt and burn this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Salt and Burn

His first instinct was to reach for his phone and call Sammy. Except, these days, he didn't pick up. No matter how many times he called. 

God, he wished it would stop. He wished the words would go away. The room felt as if it were spinning, even in the dark. He begged his lungs to take in air but still, no matter how many times he gasped the only thing that seemed to fill his lungs was nothing but thick air, as if he were drowning out of water. 

It all came back to him in random flashes, strange buzzing noises. Just when he'd almost be asleep sirens would rip through the beginning of a dream, violently clawing him back into reality. 

Bile rose into his throat and turned over face first into the pillow willing the sounds to go away, praying to some unknown power to make it stop. He could still feel the heat against his skin and the way his eyelids burned as he ran down those stairs clutching the little baby he had just kissed good night.  Little eyes wide when the window exploded and dad had him in his arms, still holding his brother as tightly as he could. 

The noises were the worst, repeating over and over. His dad shouting, _"Mary!"_ The cracking of the fire, the hurried steps he took down the steps. Sam's wailing, Dean whispering to the baby it was alright but still Sam continued to cry and Dean couldn't hug him any tighter than he was.

Cold sweats would consume him on nights like this. Dean's heart wouldn't slow and he had no one, not like when he knew Sam was there. When Sam was near, it was easier to control, but now? It's useless. His brother used to crawl into his bed and encircled him in his warmth pressing kisses to the back of his head. 

Shivering he pulled the covers over his head, attempting to take deep breaths that never calmed him. Most of the things he heard weren't even from that night. The responsibility has always fallen on him, before he pulling Sam out of trouble time and time again. Sounds of his parents snapping at each other, the way his dad would slam doors and stamp up and down the stairs. More than anything he could hear clearly his mother's soft crying. His little arms reaching around her thighs and saying, "Don't worry, mom. It's gunna be okay."

The way he'd calm Sammy down in his pen when his parents were fighting. He knew it was his job. His job to stop the bad, he knew it was his he didn't need to be told. He just did it. 

He wishes more than anything Sammy was here. The pounding in his head grew to a pain he couldn't take anymore and his stomach churned threateningly. He tore out of bed the covers flying to the bathroom.

Ripping the bathroom door open, he bends over the toilet, choking and gasping for air, hearing his father's voice in his head. He wishes he could just salt and burn this, these fucking voices and noises, the images... 

 _"Take your brother outside as fast as you can!"_

 _"Take care of your brother, Sammy, boy!"_

He can't hold back the choking sob and heaves into the toilet, pale yellow hitting the water. The entirety of his body was shaking and burning, the coldness of the porcelain rooting him back to reality.

 _"Hey Jude..."_

"Mom," He whispered wiping vomit from the corner of his mouth, leaning against the wall, breathing deeply with air actually filling his lungs comfortably. He tries to remember her. Her blonde hair, her comforting voice when she'd sing to him every night. 

This was the only thing that worked without Sammy. Dean's childhood lullaby. It was the only thing that could quell the auditory memories and keep the images at bay if only for a moment.

Dad was off on his own jobs, Mom died, Sammy left... 

Dean was alone. He wasn't enough to stop Sammy from leaving him. His hands held his bowed head as he cried. He wasn't even enough to keep Sammy. Utterly worthless. He was nothing... 


End file.
